Day Three: Gallbladder Free
HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER THANKSGIVING VACATION
Wednesday night, I had emergency gallbladder surgery. I had another one of my painful abdominal "attacks," which my (I now know is) stupid gastroenterologist had decided were abdominal migraines (very rare in teenagers, not so much in little kids). The last time I had one of these, the drugs she gave me to take during an attack (hyoscyamine) seemed to work, but I think they just made me tired enough to sleep through the attack. They did not work this time, and I was in horrible pain, so my dad and I went to the emergency room. The (male) nurse who took care of me in the ER was SUPER CUTE and gave me IV pain meds. The (douchey) ER doctor ordered an ultrasound of my gallbladder, and sure enough I had stones. (The ultrasound was followed by the sweet-and-Southern-as-hell ultrasound tech and I having a discussion about how much of a dick my ER doctor was.)
They admitted me to the hospital and told me I might have to have surgery. Even though I was hopped up on something stronger than morphine all night, I didn't really sleep. Later in the morning, the surgeon came in and told me that I should have the surgery that day. My parents and I agreed that it was best to do the surgery now, to get it over with and keep me from missing a lot of school. The day waiting in the hospital sucked, but eventually 4:30 rolled around and they rolled me down to pre-op. Pretty much everyone I dealt with there was incredibly nice, especially the pre-op nurses. I seemed to languish there for 45 minutes, but eventually the anesthesiologist came in and gave me something to calm me down. After that, I remember rolling to the OR, getting on the table, and nothing else.
I woke up in the recovery room, groggy as all hell (a very groggy place, you know). I wasn't really confused about where I was or anything. I wasn't confused after my wisdom teeth surgery either, but the anesthesiologist said that teenage boys were the most likely to wake up confused. After half an hour or so, they wheeled me up to my room. I watched Mythbusters while falling asleep. I woke up twice to go to the bathroom (a long ordeal because I had to have the nurse take off my inflating circulation boots and unplug the IV machine from the wall so I could take it with me) but I slept reasonably well. I woke up around eight or so on Thanksgiving. They gave me more morphine, and I got to EAT for the first time since 8:30 on Tuesday night. I had a bagel AND French toast and it was carbotastic. After breakfast, I think they gave me more morphine, and I feel asleep for an hour or so while watching the parade. Around noon, I got discharged, and set up shop in our blue recliner at home. They gave me Norco (same thing as Vicodin except with less acetominophen in it). Beth and her boyfriend (whom I hadn't met before because he's in the Army and they've been dating for five months!) And then April visited me and ate Thanksgiving dinner with us. We watched a ton of Arrested Development, and it was really nice to have people around. I tried to go to bed right after dinner (at 7, lawlz) but laying down hurt too much. When you have laparoscopic surgery, they have to inflate your abdomen with CO2 so that they can see in there. Some of this gas stays in after surgery, and travels below your diaphragm and kills a few of your cells there, which makes your shoulder hurt. The shoulder pain was deadly when I lay down, so my mom set me up in her room and I slept sitting up about about three hours of watching House (thanks for the marathon, USA!)
I woke up an hour and a half ago, with my shoulder still feeling like death, so I took two Norco (and damn am I out of it!). But, I recently burped a few times and my shoulder feels super better. Hopefully I can sleep laying down tonight.
Wednesday night, I had emergency gallbladder surgery. I had another one of my painful abdominal "attacks," which my (I now know is) stupid gastroenterologist had decided were abdominal migraines (very rare in teenagers, not so much in little kids). The last time I had one of these, the drugs she gave me to take during an attack (hyoscyamine) seemed to work, but I think they just made me tired enough to sleep through the attack. They did not work this time, and I was in horrible pain, so my dad and I went to the emergency room. The (male) nurse who took care of me in the ER was SUPER CUTE and gave me IV pain meds. The (douchey) ER doctor ordered an ultrasound of my gallbladder, and sure enough I had stones. (The ultrasound was followed by the sweet-and-Southern-as-hell ultrasound tech and I having a discussion about how much of a dick my ER doctor was.)
They admitted me to the hospital and told me I might have to have surgery. Even though I was hopped up on something stronger than morphine all night, I didn't really sleep. Later in the morning, the surgeon came in and told me that I should have the surgery that day. My parents and I agreed that it was best to do the surgery now, to get it over with and keep me from missing a lot of school. The day waiting in the hospital sucked, but eventually 4:30 rolled around and they rolled me down to pre-op. Pretty much everyone I dealt with there was incredibly nice, especially the pre-op nurses. I seemed to languish there for 45 minutes, but eventually the anesthesiologist came in and gave me something to calm me down. After that, I remember rolling to the OR, getting on the table, and nothing else.
I woke up in the recovery room, groggy as all hell (a very groggy place, you know). I wasn't really confused about where I was or anything. I wasn't confused after my wisdom teeth surgery either, but the anesthesiologist said that teenage boys were the most likely to wake up confused. After half an hour or so, they wheeled me up to my room. I watched Mythbusters while falling asleep. I woke up twice to go to the bathroom (a long ordeal because I had to have the nurse take off my inflating circulation boots and unplug the IV machine from the wall so I could take it with me) but I slept reasonably well. I woke up around eight or so on Thanksgiving. They gave me more morphine, and I got to EAT for the first time since 8:30 on Tuesday night. I had a bagel AND French toast and it was carbotastic. After breakfast, I think they gave me more morphine, and I feel asleep for an hour or so while watching the parade. Around noon, I got discharged, and set up shop in our blue recliner at home. They gave me Norco (same thing as Vicodin except with less acetominophen in it). Beth and her boyfriend (whom I hadn't met before because he's in the Army and they've been dating for five months!) And then April visited me and ate Thanksgiving dinner with us. We watched a ton of Arrested Development, and it was really nice to have people around. I tried to go to bed right after dinner (at 7, lawlz) but laying down hurt too much. When you have laparoscopic surgery, they have to inflate your abdomen with CO2 so that they can see in there. Some of this gas stays in after surgery, and travels below your diaphragm and kills a few of your cells there, which makes your shoulder hurt. The shoulder pain was deadly when I lay down, so my mom set me up in her room and I slept sitting up about about three hours of watching House (thanks for the marathon, USA!)
I woke up an hour and a half ago, with my shoulder still feeling like death, so I took two Norco (and damn am I out of it!). But, I recently burped a few times and my shoulder feels super better. Hopefully I can sleep laying down tonight.